CHAPTER II.
As she received no further news of Sir Philip, whether directly
or indirectly, his unfortunate lady began now to feel a sort of
consolation even in those careless habits which had so often
given her pain. "He is so thoughtless," she repeated a hundred
times a day to her sister, "he never writes when things are going
on smoothly. It is his way. Had anything happened, he would
have informed us."
Lady Bothwell listened to her sister without attempting to
console her. Probably she might be of opinion that even the
worst intelligence which could be received from Flanders might
not be without some touch of consolation; and that the Dowager
Lady Forester, if so she was doomed to be called, might have a
source of happiness unknown to the wife of the gayest and finest
gentleman in Scotland. This conviction became stronger as they
learned from inquiries made at headquarters that Sir Philip was
no longer with the army--though whether he had been taken or
slain in some of those skirmishes which were perpetually
occurring, and in which he loved to distinguish himself, or
whether he had, for some unknown reason or capricious change of
mind, voluntarily left the service, none of his countrymen in the
camp of the Allies could form even a conjecture.
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